The Persistence of Loss
by AnaQuinn
Summary: Desperate for air, I reached for your ghost and found my hands empty. Empty and isolated. All those around me, oblivious to the betrayal of our love. Oblivious to my still beating heart taunting me in your grasp while you fled far, far away. I cried for you and it fell on deaf ears. And I awoke, alone and afraid of a world without you.
1. Chapter 1

**The Persistence of Loss – Part One: Back to the beginning.**

_She giggled when he scooped her up into his arms and started to run. She slipped her short, plump arms around his neck and held on just like he'd told her to, and to her it was all just a game at first, and he ran so fast that the wind bit cold into her cheeks, whipping her hair around, and at some point she stopped giggling and nestled her face into his neck where it was warm and closed her eyes until they had stopped. _

_Tucked up in his lap in the middle of the meadow, her face pressed close to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, the thing that the little girl remembered the most was the smell of her brothers' shirt, a smell that she would not recognize or be able to define until many years later, of perspiration mixed with the odor of smoke and burning wood. That, and the grass in the meadow tickled her face. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before and she began to cry._

Ana sat bolt upright, waking suddenly, her forehead beaded in sweat and looked around the darkened room, slightly disoriented for a few moments. She was stiff and sore, and she stretched, cringing as she realized that she had fallen asleep on the small two seated sofa in the living room of their small stone house, and at best the furniture was only just barely tolerable enough to sit on, let alone sleep on, so she knew she'd pay for that by way of a stiff back for at least a day or two. She found a candle to light, and set it on the small table on the other side of the room, shivering as a cold gust of wind blew through the open window. Valgoren knew better than to leave anything open at night, and she wrinkled her nose and shook her head in annoyance as she closed the shutter. She was also more than a little miffed that he hadn't at least covered her up where she slept. It wasn't summer after all, and these nights in the desert, despite the mostly tropical climate, could get bitter at this time of year. The cold winds were and could be harsh and unforgiving.

She wondered, as she picked up the candle from the table and moved across the room and down the hallway to her brothers' room to check on him, if everything was okay, or in fact what time he had gotten in and in what sort of a state even as to forget something as simple and in fact as important as closing a window. Though they weren't technically in hiding anymore, one could never be too careful; he had said so on so many occasions that almost every time he did speak those words now, she would roll her eyes and say, "How could I _possibly_ forget with you reminding me 5 times a day?"

She pushed the door of his room open with her free hand, slowly. It creaked, it always had done so since the day they'd moved into the house no matter how many times it were oiled, so if he was soundly asleep, she didn't want to wake him on account of that. She simply wanted to make sure he was there, he was home and that he was safe, as always. Ana knew, before she even moved into the room, just standing in the doorway that her brother was not there, and that when she did in fact move out of the doorway and towards his bed that it would be empty. It was that instinctual feeling that one got at certain moments in time where you simply didn't need to see or to hear something to know that it was so, it just was.

An involuntary shiver ran up her spine and she stood there for long agonizing moments, afraid almost to see it with her own eyes. It wouldn't have been the first time that he was late coming home, or that he hadn't come home at all, but it was the first time that she had ever been filled with such a sense of dread because of it. In her bones, she sensed that something was terribly wrong, and if asked about it at some point long, long afterwards, she still wouldn't have been able to articulate how she knew. She just did. And padding across the stone floor in her bare feet, her eyes dropped to the bed and found it untouched and exactly as she had made it after he had left for work that morning. He'd not been back.

_He's not coming back._

She shook her head, swiftly, as if the words and the voice that she heard inside her head were actually real. She'd prove her subconscious wrong. She'd just go and find him, right now. Passed out in some bar somewhere or on the ship he'd been working on for the past few weeks. And she'd bring him home, and everything would be just fine. As it always had been, since it had been just the two of them. As it had been. Just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two: An eye for an eye.**

The sense of urgency Ana felt once she actually left the house was so immense that within seconds she was running, a full speed run that didn't falter until she reached the docks. She'd planned on stopping at the one inn that her brother did spend the most time in after hours, but even it had been closed, and this only made her run faster.

She came to a stop at enough of a distance to rest for a moment behind one of the palms bordering the shore line, bent over, hands on her knees gasping for breath for several minutes, recovering from the sprint. She was thankful that night that the moon was so bright, because without it it was dark down here, and usually she might have only been able to see the ship's outline at the very most, vague and looming, but tonight it was well illuminated. It looked quiet enough and she moved forwards, the slipper shoes she wore on her feet filling with soft sand, but she paid that no mind and kept on. She moved along the pier quickly and quietly and saw not another soul.

Stepping onto the deck of the ship itself, Ana startled when the board underfoot creaked loudly and she let out a small cry of fright, and in an instant she was afraid. Not that there was any immediate reason to be scared of anything, but it was a similar feeling that she'd felt back at the house, something that she just knew to be true and the sense of unease and wrongness about this place, at this moment filled her every sense and it was at that moment that she smelt it. She smelt that sharp, coppery odor at the very same time her next step caused her to lose her footing, slipping, her feet flying out from underneath her, and she flailed for a moment, and despite where she was and the reason she was there, she still had enough time to think for even a fleeting moment that had somebody been watching, they'd have split their sides laughing at how comical it must have all looked, and then she hit the deck. She rubbed at the hip she'd landed on, wincing, and shifted to get up, putting a hand out to use to push herself up and it, too, slipped, and the smell was overwhelming then. She knew, before she even lifted the hand in front of her face, what she'd slipped on, suddenly. And looking around at the deck she sat on, she realized that she was sitting in ...

_So much blood, oh Gods, it's everywhere._

And she managed to get herself on her feet then, at the same time that she heard the shouting of men's voices from somewhere below her feet and only seconds later the sound of loud footsteps crashing up towards the deck from below and she looked around frantically for somewhere to hide before she was seen. She slipped behind a large container the moment the men came into sight, standing where she had been just seconds earlier, two of them, and they were dragging …

_Val..._

She opened her mouth to cry out to her brother, but she couldn't, she wouldn't. She'd might as well say goodbye to her own life if she were to do that. What could she possibly do against two large men? She was only a girl, after all. She didn't know where the blood had come from, but one look at Valgoren's face from her hiding spot told her that he'd been hurt a lot already. Maybe somebody else had felt the end of their blades before he had. Maybe …

_Stop, Ana. Focus. _

And she did, though the conversation was short, and hard to hear. While she listened, she took in every visible detail that she was able to of those men. What they were wearing, the sounds of their voices, what they looked like. She vowed that no matter what was about to happen here that she'd not forget. That this was not the end.

"'Goren, why'd you do it, man? Ya gotta understand, I don't -want- to do this. _We _don't want to do this. But you killed our brother."

"He killed my family, "Valgoren growled with as much venom as he could manage, but he was weak, and sounded almost defeated already, and that made Ana cringe. She wanted so badly to fly out from her place behind the container and throw herself between him, her only family, and these men but a sense of self preservation kept her where she was, and all she could do was just listen and watch, and wait.

The larger man spoke then, at the same time drawing a shortsword and placing it against her brother's throat,

"An eye for an eye."

And with one swift movement, it was over, and the sound that Ana would remember until her last living day would be the resounding thud of her brothers' lifeless body hitting this deck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three: Vengeance**

It had taken Anaveya just four short months to formulate a plan that was as close as it could be to perfect in which she would carry out her revenge on those men who had murdered her brother. And no, not just her brother, but her family too. Her mother and her father. Val had never been terribly forthcoming with the details on exactly what had happened to their family, claiming both that he didn't know enough himself or that she was too young, and he would tell her when she was old enough to hear it. He had lied, at least about the former. She'd managed to piece it all together following his death through a combination of things. Vague stories he'd told her, personal journals and family records.

It had all suddenly pieced itself together in her mind at once as if she had been putting together a jigsaw puzzle. The recurring dream she'd had for many years almost nightly made sense even.

"_Come on Ana, we're going to go for a little run!" And he'd scooped her up and run faster than he ever had before and she'd giggled, like it was all just a game._

Looking at her freshly dyed black hair in the mirror, she closed her eyes for a moment and remembered. The way he smelled, the stench of sweat and smoke and the overwhelming fear and confusion that had overcome her, for even at such a young age, no matter how he'd tried to shield her all from it, she knew now. Those three men had come into the house while she obliviously sat on her bedroom floor playing with her dolls and cut first her mothers throat, and then her fathers, and then they'd set the house on fire.

And she'd been ignorant to all of it until that dreadful night four months earlier when she'd watched her brother murdered brutally on the deck of that merchant ship.

"'_Goren, why'd you do it, man? You killed our brother."_

"_He killed my family."_

"_An eye for an eye."_

She carried all of this fresh information with her now, and used it to fuel her plans for revenge. She could have just walked away from it all and made a new life, or tried to make a new life for herself somewhere. After all, tragic and terrible things happened and had happened to others, she wasn't unique in that way, but something inside her just couldn't do that. They had taken her _entire_ family. All of them. She was the last surviving Blackcrest, and they would pay for it, even if she died trying in the process.

What surprised her, even though it shouldn't have perhaps, was that the remaining two men remained in the Tanaris area after they'd murdered Valgoren Blackcrest, regularly travelling in and out on business, and she watched the both of them for two months solid, barely even eating or sleeping. It had become an obsession. As misfortune would have it, a month before she'd been set to carry out her plan to end the first of them, he'd disappeared. Well, not disappeared technically, he'd merely left the port as he usually did and had not returned. Still, one remained and she couldn't let him disappear as well. She'd move her plans forward a little to ensure that didn't happen.

She dressed herself carefully that night to look as inconspicuous as possible. When she walked into the inn, she wasn't looked at as out of place, or out of the ordinary. She merely looked like just another cheap whore that frequented the place, and because of this, gaining access to the rented inn rooms was effortless.

The candle on the nightstand flickered so violently that it threatened to blow out completely. The wind was rising outside. There was a storm coming, and it wouldn't be long before the residents would be stuck inside for a matter of hours or even days. Desert storms were nothing to laugh about. The environment was unpredictable.

The overweight, snoring man woke easily enough when she moved close to him and murmured in his ear, "Wake up sleepyhead."

His initial surprise was replaced with excitement and anticipation when she explained that "A friend of yours has sent me. Their currency was generous." Stupid fool even lay there and let her bind his wrists to the bedhead, thinking he was in for some fun. Before she had drawn the dagger across his throat, she had paused long enough to request that he study her face for just long enough to acquire the recognition that she desired. The last look on his face of disbelief she would now take with her to her own grave, and it was almost enough. Almost.

She found a pendant inside of the drawer of the bedside table and retrieved it, curling her fingers around it tightly. She turned to face the man, struggling for his last few breaths before she turned on her heel to leave as swiftly as she had come. "The only thing I regret about killing you now, is that I had not the leisure to make it last longer."

And then one remained. She wasn't sure what she'd do after the last man met his end eventually, when she tracked him down; she'd honestly not thought that far ahead, but for now, it would at least give her a reason for continuing on, a purpose, and for now, it would just have to suffice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four: The Visitor**

The window shutter slamming open and closed in the sudden wind was what woke her up. Disoriented and in between sleeping and being fully awake, Ana rolled over and brushed her hair off her face, curling up into a ball, and pulling the covers up over herself, having kicked them off in her sleep. It had been unbearably humid when she'd gotten into bed for the night, but it wasn't unusual for the temperature to take a swift decline during the smaller hours, at all. After living in the desert for so many years already, it was something she was accustomed to, at any rate.

As she started to drift off again, the shutter slammed shut again and she startled awake properly this time. Groaning, she pushed the covers aside, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cool stone floor. She frowned as she crossed the moonlit room in the dark to go and close it. _The wind out there must be bad,_ she thought to herself, _I could have sworn I closed that properly._

"_I'm serious, Ana! You've got to start being more security conscious. How many times have I told you?"_

_She rolled her eyes at him and giggled._

"_I said I was sorry didn't I? Jeez, chill out DAD."_

_His eyebrows furrowed and he gave her 'the look' then and she threw her hands up in mock surrender._

"_Alright, alright. Sorry, I'll try not to forget again."_

"_It's for your safety, Ana, that's all. Yours and mine."_

_She nodded and crossed the short distance between them to slip her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest for a moment. Maybe she'd surprised him with the action because he didn't return the embrace right away, but moments later he did, wrapping his arms around her small frame in a tight bear hug. When he pulled away, he stepped back and looked down at her, a look on his face of both amusement and affection._

"_What was that for, then?"_

_She shrugged._

"_I love you, stupid. Isn't a girl allowed to give her big brother a hug, sometimes?"_

She had to pull the shutter inwards with more effort than she'd thought, fighting against the wind which sought to whip it outwards and open again, and it slammed shut with such force it was almost a wonder it didn't crack in two, so she fastened the latches quickly, and turned to go back to bed again. She froze in terror, her eyes wide and she choked back a startled scream when the figure standing in front of her pushed the hood back to reveal it's face.

She shook her head from side to side, and started to back away, but two steps backwards and her back was against the wall. She squeezed her eyes closed and started to talk to herself, uttering the words out loud.

"It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a ..."

"Look at me, little Ana."

And although it sounded like his voice, there was something simply _wrong_ about it; there was an undertone, an unnatural grating quality to her that made her feel cold and fearful. She wanted to scream, and shout at it to go away. She didn't want to open her eyes, but then it was just there, touching her, a cold hand underneath her chin and the feeling of it's cold fingers on her face made her skin crawl, but it forced her to open her eyes and she dared not believe that this was happening, that he was in any way, shape or form real. If she believed that, then she would know she'd almost certainly lost her mind, but she opened her mouth and spoke to it, to _him, _and her mouth and throat were so dry they barely came out as more than a whisper.

"You're … you're dead. You're not here. You're dead and buried."

It cocked it's head to one side and grinned at her, a grin she'd seen dozens of times, one that could only belong to him, but the gesture itself made by this, this ... _thing _made her feel sick, and for a moment her head started to spin and she thought she might actually vomit, but all she could do was stand there, backed into a wall, with her hand over her mouth, staring dumbly at this twisted visage of the late Valgoren Blackcrest as it laughed and whether it was the vision or the sound itself, or a combination of both, she felt the room spin for just a few short seconds before everything went black and she lost consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five: Get busy living.**

She took one last look at the now empty main room of the little stone house from the doorway, hand curled around the door handle, reluctant to close it for the last time, knowing that she would never be coming back. She knew that it was silly to hold on to a house, a material thing, because of the memories that it held, when memories would as easily be held in the mind, although even those faded over time, and that was what she was afraid of the most. That she would forget. Already she began to have trouble remembering his face in as much detail as she would have liked, and it saddened her.

Living in the house after Valgoren had passed had been like living with a ghost, but his absence there was a constant daily reminder that he had been there at all, and she was afraid that once she left and moved on that she would think of him less, and the memories would fade even more than they had already. But, it had to be done. She knew what she had to do now, and it was far, far away from here.

She pulled the door closed and walked away from dwelling, along the stone path, only stopping at the gate to look back once before turning away again, quickening her pace to leave before she changed her mind, yet again.

Admittedly, Eversong Woods was beautiful; such a shocking contrast to the desert vistas and climate that she'd been so used to for as long as she could remember, and standing back, looking at the entrance to Silvermoon City, Ana faltered for a moment, wondering if she shouldn't just turn around and leave again as quickly as she'd come. But no, she must press on. She must finish the task that she'd been given. She'd made a promise.

_To a ghost, Ana. You made a promise to something that isn't even real._

She closed her eyes, and shook her head, dismissing the voice of doubt and took the first steps forward. Back to the land of the living.

"_Get busy living, Ana. You deserve more than this."_

"_I can't...I can't do it. There's nothing for me out there." _

"_You're wrong. Trust me."_

And so, when that man in white, the hooded man, who she came to later know as Tarcanus approached her in the Row where she had stood talking with the death knight and handed her a piece of parchment telling her to meet him at the pond later that night, she didn't question it. Every little bit of experience and instinct told her that logically meeting a stranger in the dark of night in a foreign place was a bad idea, more than, even. But, the coincidence was too strong. And besides, her gut instinct told her that this was the right thing to do. That allowing herself blind faith and trust in this man, this stranger, was not a bad thing. She would mull that over at a later date and laugh even at her thought processes at that time and tell herself how foolish of a thing blind trust was, but in this case, just this once, it would work out.

He was there, where he said he would be, and at the exact time as she and the death knight, Felano, approached, and he smiled, warmly, thanking them both for coming. Nobody spoke at all for several moments and Ana finally cleared her throat and asked.

"Alright. I'm here. Now what exactly is it you wanted to discuss…?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six: Family**

And so Ana had found herself part of the Order, recruited by Tarcanus Frostbourne at a moment of such convenience and coincidence. Or had it been coincidence? She would never know, just like she would never know what in the world had possessed her that night to have such blind faith in her resolve that in fact meeting him that night would just simply work out for the best.

She never would have imagined that she, having been as reclusive as one could be for at least the past two or three years, would ever have such purpose again. And in fact, following a research trip to the Black Temple, it had been pointed out afterwards that the reason for the journey and mission itself had mostly been a ruse, a cover for the true purpose of the mission which had been more or less a "bonding exercise" of the members chosen. She'd laughed at that and even felt a little annoyed that her time, and in fact the others' time also had been wasted, but in hindsight, it had actually been worthwhile and had given her an actual sense of importance.

Besides that, it had given her a chance to prove to that ever boastful death knight, Felano, that as much as he would mock her or tease that she didn't now how to use the weapon she wielded, that in fact she did, and she could hold her own, and then some.

The thing that Ana was the most thankful for was the opportunity to return to her home, Shattrath, where she would remain until such time as the personal business of her past was taken care of; and it served a double purpose, giving her the freedom to come and go as she pleased, without fear of judgment from anyone or anything.

Yes, this unexpected series of events had been a little sudden and uncomfortable at first, but she had begun to find her feet again, and admittedly, she felt okay about being needed once more, in some capacity that served the greater good and not just for the purpose of lining her pockets with the means to survive on a day to day basis.

She had even made friends within the Order with a couple of the women, or at least she would consider them so. And this had been new to Ana. Before, there had only been Valgoren, and theirs had been a friendship born mostly out of blood and necessity. Without each other, the world would have seemed like a much larger, scarier and lonely place, and she'd never expected to have to leave that safe little bubble that included only the two of them, but she had because she'd simply been left with no other choice, and now she was surrounded by these people, some strangers, some friends. They met several times a week, to be taught, to discuss business and even to socialize.

Always the underlying theme within the Order had been "family". This most unlikely group of individuals from all kinds of different places, family backgrounds and skillsets functioned under the belief that they were family, and she remembered the exact moment when she had actually taken hold of this concept for herself and accepted it. There had been a night somewhere out in the wilds near Thunder Bluff, sitting around a campfire; a handful of them sharing stories at Tarcanus' direction about who they were, and more specifically, something about themselves that the others might not be aware of. It had been incredibly uncomfortable for her to do this, but she did so first, taking another leap of faith and putting her trust in this group for no other reason than she had felt it was _right_ to do so.

_"For those who don't know me, I'm Anaveya Blackcrest. I have no living family. That is, I had none until I was a part of all of this."_

And one after another those gathered would disclose something new about themselves and quietly she had listened, feeling grateful that she was a part of something larger than just herself, and it was unusual, yet welcome. And not only had she been surrounded by friends and family at that moment, but she had allowed her mind to wander as she had stared into the fire while the others had talked amongst themselves and considered the fact that she would soon be married and for that moment, there could be nothing wrong with the world. She seemed to have attained, personally, the thing which she had believed for such a long time did not or could never exist again.

Family.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Part Seven: This Is Madness_**

_While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,_

_As of some one gently rapping-rapping at my chamber door ~Edgar Allen Poe_

Ana startled awake, her eyes flying open, heart thudding in her chest. She stretched her arms and cringed a little as her back cracked. She'd actually done it this time, fallen asleep in the chair at her desk; of all of the nights she'd sat in that same place for weeks on end unable to sleep, she'd still managed to get up out of the seat and at least make it to her bed, where she would lie and stare at the ceiling in the dark, maybe drifting off for short periods at a time. But not this night.

She look toward the door and saw it creak open just wide enough to allow somebody entrance to the room, but as she watched, nobody came and she rubbed at her eyes, blinking after as if to clear her vision. Finally she stood and moved across the room to take a closer look. It had to be far too late for her sister to be awake, or Maiija and either way, none of them would have bothered her in her bed chambers until morning unless there had been some kind of emergency. And then she heard it, or at least she thought she did. The voice, calling her name.

"Ana?"

She froze where she stood, her fingers digging into the door frame, and shook her head. No, she was just hearing things. But she heard it again, and this time her eyes widened not in fear, but in disbelief and her shock was so much that her fingernails almost broke as a result of how tightly she clung to the door.

"Veya? Where are you?"

And then she had noticed something. From behind and coming through underneath the door, she saw something that made little sense. Was there light coming from under it? There couldn't be, for it there was it would only be dull, as dead in the middle of the night as it was, but nevertheless her feet moved in that direction anyway, closer. Yes, there was light coming from underneath the door, was it .. no it couldn't be sunlight...

"What in the world?" She whispered to herself, as her hand curled around the door knob, not turning to look back at her bedroom as the door swung open, and her eyes widened, the question forgotten as quickly as it had formed because what was in front of her was so shocking that the only rational explanation for any of this was that she was still asleep. She was still asleep in that uncomfortable chair at her desk, and she would wake soon, and vow to at least try and regulate her sleep patterns or rather lack of them, because this, what she was seeing was so far from right or normal that she was a little afraid, afraid of her own mind and what it was capable of conjuring.

I'm just dreaming. It's just a dream...

She took a step forward onto the grass at her feet, looking around in awe almost. It wasn't that behind the door she'd discovered the meadow from her childhood,

"Come on Ana, we're going to go for a little run!"

But it was the sun in the sky beaming down on her face, making the grass and the spring flowers in the meadow just ahead of her sway that held her attention. She could even smell the flowers. She took another step forwards and the door whipped backwards slamming shut and she spun to open it again, but it just simply wasn't there, and then it occurred to her that maybe she was going insane. Is this what madness felt like? The door was gone and all that was in it's place was more grass, more flowers, and suddenly the smell of even those sweet blooms was gone, and in it's place was that long forgotten stench of sweat, of smoke and of blood. And she was barely aware of the grass tickling her legs and the sun seemed to all but disappear, being replaced by the overwhelming darkness, and the smell and she began to run, she didn't know where she was running, and she couldn't see, but maybe if she ran far enough or fast enough that she would collapse, exhausted and finally wake up.

"Veya! Where ARE you?"

And she turned towards where the voice was coming from, his voice and ran faster, all but blind, running on instinct and desperation alone.

"Domiiii!"

"VEYA!"

"TINDOMIEL!" She screamed out his name with whatever breath she had left in her lungs and then she heard him again, back from where she'd come from and she turned and started running back that way, towards her bedroom, or were her bedroom had been. She started to laugh then as she ran, an out of control hysterical laugh and at the same time tears ran down her face. I'm fucking crazy, I've lost my mind. Lost the plot. Nuts. The words ran over in her mind and she didn't doubt them, only started laughing harder, tears flowing more freely, because this was insanity. This meadow didn't exist, not in this place or at this time, just like Tindómiel didn't exist. He wasn't here calling her, it was just her mind playing tricks on her, and cruel, vicious tricks they were, but still, she kept running.

"Anaveeeeeya, where ARE you?!"

And finally she collided with something, and it knocked the breath almost completely from her lungs. She slid to the ground and found herself on the stone tiles in front of her bedroom door once more, and she began to sob then, tears that came from a place where she'd kept them tightly locked up all of this time, for weeks, months even, fearing that if she let them come forth that it would hurt, it would hurt more than anything that had ever came before it, and that is what happened then. She slumped to the floor, and wailed, at one point her face pressed into the stone tiles, her arms wrapped around her middle in an attempt to stop the pain, but all she could do was just feel, the agonizing hole that had been left by his absence.

"Veya." And his voice was soft this time, and right beside her, and she squeezed her eyes closed, willing it to all go away. The voices, the hallucinations, all of it. And then a hand touched her shoulder and she looked up at him. He was there. He was right there, in front of her, his head tilted to the side, looking at her with such a sadness that she almost believed for the most fleeting moment that he was real. He reached a hand out for her to hold and she shakily reached up to place her hand in his, and it was cold. The veins in the top of his hand prominent as they had been when they'd first met all of those months ago, when he was sick, corrupted. Was he sick again? Was that why he had left her?

This isn't real, Ana. You're crazy, delusional.

"I don't care." She whispered, at the voice in her head, and he smiled at her curiously, and she simply shook her head, smiled back, blinking up at him, taking in every inch of his perfect face, just as it had looked that first day, pushed her hair back from her face and stood to face him. His hand tightened around hers firmly but gently and he pulled her towards the winding staircase that would lead them to the highest part of the estate.

"Come with me, Veya. Everything is going to be okay."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Part Eight: The Master of Convenience**_

Tindómiel moved slowly towards the edge of the tower, the highest place of the entire estate and peered over the edge, casting his eyes over the expansive grounds which she could see perfectly well from where she was standing from a safer distance. It was cold, almost freezing outside, which made for the most beautiful of nights usually, the sky clear, the stars scattered bright and as far as the eye could see, and that night was no different, only the ground below was covered in a thick fog so that she could not even see where the fog ended and the earth below began. And she watched him, his every facial expression, his every move, almost afraid to blink, for if she did, she might find him gone again as quickly as he had come.

_This isn't real, Ana. _

She shook her head, and stared at his profile, taking in every detail of him as if she were seeing it for the first time all over again. The bumpy, veined texture of his cheek, his nose, the way his white hair fell in such a way over his shoulder, and that one stray lock that always fell over his forehead that she had always constantly reached to brush away. And then he turned to look at her, giving her a small smile and an apologetic shrug.

"Seems as though I've lost track of time, once again. Sorry about that."

And then his eyes were on her, as he tilted his head to the side, licked his lips in the way that he'd always done and peered at her curiously after looking her form up and down.

"You look like hell, Veya. What precisely has been going on?"

"Where have you been?"

"_During my time away, I've felt a lack. I feel powerless. Almost like a walking cliché searching for this untapped power I'm yet to find. I need to return to my roots, to separate myself from the others."_

He didn't answer, but simply turned away from her slightly then, his attention on the grounds once more and he clapped his hands together, peering off into the distance. He wouldn't give her a straight answer. He never had, and whether his presence here was imagined or not, she knew that at least this one thing would remain unchanged.

"This place is so wonderfully horrid, is it not? It's like... "and he paused for just a moment, shaking his head. "... death. Death is beautiful, right? Or it can be."

"You're afraid of death. That's why you gave me this ring..."she reached inside her robe to pull out the chain on which her wedding ring and his soulstone now hung instead of in place on her finger. "You told me that the night before our wedding, remember?"

"_Guldan did something that changed history. Slavery probably isn't the right word, eternal servitude perhaps? He created servants by binding souls to inanimate objects and those were the driving force of those servants. You are marrying a very paranoid man, and so what follows is protection and solitary housing. I want to lock myself away from everyone, because I'm afraid of this place and what it stands for. Death. That's why you wear that ring and that's why I'm going to do everything I can to protect myself."_

Again he had no response, and so Ana asked him the question again.

"Where have you been, Tindómiel?"

"I've found myself. All this chaos may finally come to an end," he replied simply and then he held out his hand to her, and she didn't even hesitate but a moment before closing any gap that was between them, and she squeezed his hand with hers a little too tightly, afraid that if she held him any less then he would just disappear before her eyes. And he would, it was just a matter of when, not if. She clutched at his robes, stretched on her tiptoes and buried her face into his neck, beginning to tremble and to cry.

_This isn't real, Ana. _

_If this isn't real then why does he feel the same, why does he smell the same?_

_Because you're crazy._

_I don't care._

He stroked her hair as she cried, and spoke softly words that were reminiscent of those she had heard once before, ones that had he not spoken them again right now she would never in all of her days forget, regardless.

"I am yours, solely, and worlds will have to be broken before that will change, but love, in my eyes, is to sacrifice everything for the people you love, which is why I tried to sacrifice everything for you, even if it was just to protect you."

"_I need to return to my roots, to separate myself from the others."_

Ana shook her head emphatically no, and uttered the word over and over.

"No, Domi. No, no... don't leave. Don't protect me anymore."

He held her tighter and carried on, nodding his head, chuckling.

"I am far too selfish a man for that. And there, I have broken my vow haven't I?"

_This isn't real, Ana._

_I don't care._

And her husband, or the ghost of her husband, or the manifestation of Tindómiel Singsorrow, or whatever it was that she saw before her created by perhaps nothing but her own mind, stepped up onto the ledge of the tower, separating himself from her only long enough to situate himself, before holding his hand out to her again.

"Take my hand, Veya, it's going to be okay."

Without question, she slipped her hand into his, stepped up to the ledge where he was, held onto him tightly, pressed her face against his chest and closed her eyes.

"_I want you with me, every day of forever." _

"_Everything I am, and everything I have is yours, long before and long after this."_

"_Even in my chaotic fury, my unending torment, and my despicable means I have you, Veya."_

"_I am yours."_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Part Nine: In another life, maybe.**_

"You're lucky to be alive, Ana..." her sister spoke softly, her voice wracked with concern, and it was genuine, Ana could hear that but she still squeezed her eyes closed, rubbed at her forehead and shook her head slowly.

_No, I'm not. _

And she was barely aware of her own legs moving as Rainé helped her up off the ground, and she realized as she stood, that he was gone; he'd disappeared off the edge of that tower faster than she had been able to blink and the thought occurred to her that she could have just fallen as the hallucination of her husband had and that in the space of only a second or two it would all be over, and she wondered why she hadn't done just that.

"_I want you with me, every day of forever." _

_"_I am yours."__

"Because I'm weak, "she murmured, and the tears slid down her cheeks onto the pillow beneath her head, and it barely registered with her that she was now even in bed. She hadn't remembered walking there, nor had she been aware of lying down at all, but she didn't question it. She just simply closed her eyes and wept silently as her sister sat beside her on a stool at the bedside, stroking her forehead, and all Ana wanted was to be left alone and her every instinct was to push the caring hand away that sought to soothe her, to provide her with the warmth of another that no doubt loved her, but she didn't even have the strength left in her to do it.

_I'm tired._

"Sleep, Ana, "Raine told her softly, still stroking her hair, and looking down at her with concern for the one moment that she managed to often her eyes briefly, but then darkness fell again as her eyelids refused to stay open and she turned her head to lay her right cheek on the pillow, dampened from her tears and she felt herself drifting off to sleep, for what seemed like the first time in forever and her sister continued to speak, softly, her tone soothing if nothing else, for the words that reached Ana's ears she didn't want to hear, nor did she want to believe them. In fact she didn't, and had she not felt as if it were the worlds most difficult thing to open her mouth and scream at that point, she would have.

She would have flung herself off the bed and screamed until her throat felt as if it were bleeding. Screamed about hopelessness and the absolute unfairness of it all. And not just where Tindómiel was concerned, but her entire family, lost to her long ago, and losing the one person she had ever dared to love and get close to since had brought it all back with a cutting viciousness that stabbed at the very core of her being, beating her down in will and resolve, ripping open wounds so old and so deep that she literally felt as if she could not bear the pain. And all over again, she reminded herself that it could have all been over already, up there on the tower, all she'd had to do was take the conscious step over the brink and she would never have returned.

"_I want you with me, every day of forever." _

_"_I am yours."__

But she hadn't, because she was weak, and Rainé's words reached her eyes again now, as if she knew what Ana was thinking even, and she squeezed her eyes closed tighter and willed her silently to go away. Why wasn't she even asleep yet?

_Please, let this all be a bad dream. I need him. I need you._

"Ana, I want you to hear something, and it's something that our father once told me, as a child. It's a wonder that I still remember it really. I was only barely old enough to walk and talk. I was an impatient child, stubborn and prone to tantrums and he told me that I was strong and that I could do the things that I said I couldn't. And so you are, too."

"No, "Ana mumbled, burying her face into the pillow more. "I'm not, I'm weak. I don't know how to be strong. I've tried.. I've tried so hard...I can't do it anymore. I'm tired, Rainé, so tired..."

"You can, Ana, and you will. For he was a wise man, our Father, and were he able to be here now he would tell you that you were given this life, because you are strong enough to live it."

"I don't want to."

"Sleep, Ana. Everything will look different in the morning, I promise."

Promise or no, promise, she didn't and wouldn't believe it. She would wake in the morning, if she managed to sleep the night through at all, although she felt that this time she might. Months worth of exhaustion and the unrelenting grip of insomnia were now taking their toll and she was fading again, but her last coherent thought before she lost consciousness altogether were some words she had spoken not so long ago, the night that she'd told Tarcanus the news, and they remained no less true even now.

I will go on, as I always have done, because I simply have no other choice.


End file.
